Rustle, rustle, the girl put on that somewhat loose blue repair suit.
Her long hair slowly gathered, with one strand coiling itself to use as a hair tie, fastening her hair behind her.
"You won."
She spoke softly, her eyes still hollow and lifeless.
Yang Ming then turned around, the thorny crown in his hand ceasing its spin.
"Want to talk?" he tried to make his voice gentle.
The girl Po Suo replied indifferently, "I have no preserved cells."
"Is that so," Yang Ming smiled gently, "so if you die now, it's a true death?"
"I have already been surpassed by you."
"I'm curious about your current state," Yang Ming chuckled, "is it because your power hasn't recovered, so you're able to keep thinking like a human?"
She did not answer.
